Interviewing just over 130 authorsof erotic fiction, I asked how openly we discuss our work with friends and family and how far we keep separate our ‘writing identity’, to avoid social stigmatization.

As ever, this article is intended as a starting point for discussion. All comments are welcome.

Slipping into a Pseudonym

While a number of authors do write under their legally recognized name, more than in any other genre, we pen our words from behind a pseudonym.

Some do this for commercial reasons, separating writing identities across genre categories, to avoid confusing readers. CherryWild comments, “There are benefits to compartmentalizing writing identities. I believe readers should understand what they’re going to read from an author, instead of having a shocking surprise that what they thought would be a standard murder mystery is actually a sexed-up erotic thriller.”

Male writers, on occasion, write under a female pen name, believing it will result in better sales (the market being thought to largely comprise women readers). Women authors, in turn, may choose a gender-neutral pen name, wishing to avoid being automatically categorized or labelled by gender.

Laura Antoniou, famous for her ‘Marketplace’ series, notes that she used to pose under a masculine pen name, believing this would appeal to gay male readers. However, with changing trends, this has become irrelevant. She notes, “The number of gay male readers who would care who wrote their erotica is FAR overshadowed by the number of female readers who read MM, so there is no benefit in me writing as a guy.”

Where Fiction and Reality Meet

There’s no doubt that the relationship between the author and their reader is never closer than in the genre of erotic fiction. What other sphere of writing taps so closely into the emotional and sexual psyche?

It’s perhaps unsurprising that readers do tend to initiate contact with writers, seeking to further their connection beyond the page. While such interaction can be flattering, and welcome, it’s not uncommon for authors to report readers stepping over the usual boundaries of propriety, assuming that the writer, by nature of their subject matter, is inviting ‘real life’ sexual intimacy.

Female authors of erotic fiction, particularly, are unlikely to have avoided invitations to engage in ‘sex chat’, or overt photographic overtures. As Will Crimson jokes, wryly, having written at times under a female pen name, “I knew I’d arrived as a female erotic writer when I received my first ‘dick pic’.”

In cases where an author uses their legal name, and/or an identifiable profile picture, other risks may arise, relating to unwanted attention.

Avoiding Judgement

The main reason cited by authors of erotic fiction in choosing a pseudonym is the wish to avoid ‘judgement’, not just from co-workers or neighbours, but from family and friends, or to avoid negative consequences for those they love.

As Will Crimson notes, “I write under a pseudonym to protect my family’s friendships and associations.”

Whilst we, as authors, are proud of our writing achievements, the explicit nature of our work does not always allow us to openly share our success. Many admit to confiding in only the closest of friends. Some tell only their partners; some avoid confiding even in their lovers, fearing disapproval.

For those with school-age children, and those living in small communities, anticipation of marginalization is very real. Anxiety over losing employment is a palpable fear.

Patient Lee asserts, “As I’m a high school teacher in a conservative community, I guard my identity with my life. I believe I’d be fired if people knew what I wrote.”

Although the journey continues, we’ve come a long way in embracing equality of rights across sexual orientation, race and gender. And yet, whatever their ‘secret’ reading habits, some members of the public draw the line at rubbing shoulders with writers of what many term ‘filth’.

Certain assumptions seem to apply to authors of erotic fiction that apply nowhere else. Write a story in which your protagonists embed axes in zombie skulls and no one will blink an eye. Write a threesome fellatio scene and you’re assumed to be of dubious morals. Whether we’re believed to be writing from experience, or from the rich meadows of our imagination is irrelevant. In line with the prevailing trend of ‘sexual shaming’, our work makes us a target for judgement.

In writing of sexual desire, in all its variations, we are, piece by piece, dismantling social stigma. We are encouraging our readers to embrace their sexual nature, and to lay claim to the pleasure of their body. Sadly, in so doing, we may lay ourselves open to others overstepping the usual social boundaries of courteous behaviour.

While Patrick Califia has drawn from his own history as inspiration in writing fiction, he comments that people ‘believe I’ve done everything I’ve written about’. “They think that if I write about sex, that must mean that anything goes, and they can do anything they want around me—or to me—or with me.”

There is no doubt that first hand experience does provide some degree of inspiration for fiction; 40% of writers taking part in this survey name past experience as a stimulus for their work, but often only as a starting point. Whether writing from experience or pure fantasy, storytelling takes over; few erotic tales are unadulterated memoirs brought to life.

Unsurprisingly, where writers have used their own sexual history within their storytelling, there can be particular reason for wishing to remain discreet. As Patient Lee says,“My mother wants to read my books but I won’t let her. There’s too much of my own journey of sexual discovery in there for comfort.”

A far greater share of authors, 58%, mention fantasy as a main source of inspiration. Just as a crime or thriller writer might combine invention with human empathy and theoretical research to create their work of fiction, entering the mindset of a murderer, writers of erotic themed works apply the same techniques.

In taking on an ‘alter-ego’, we are freed from fear of causing offence or placing our social position in jeopardy; we can write as our imagination dictates. The ‘mask’ is liberating on many levels.

As Spencer Dryden notes: “If my friends, family and associates learned of my interest in erotica, they would drop dead in horror, so I use a pen name.

Tabitha Rayne tells us, “The strangest reaction I’ve had was from one of my sisters who will never read my work because she feels that to do so would be incestuous!”

Patrick Califia (originally Pat Califia), who has written under his legal name, relates, “I stopped writing for a long time because I was trying to be married to someone who, it turns out, hated my work and was ashamed of it. I’m slowly reclaiming my voice, but it’s like healing from a deep wound. I’ve been repeatedly shamed and treated with disgust and repulsion because I write erotica.”

Patrick continues, “Social exclusion and outcast status is imposed at every level. People are frightened of me, titillated, and judgmental. I’ve been declared an enemy of lesbian feminism and received threats. I’ve had people assume that I must be mentally ill for writing about sex. I’ve been attacked online by other trans people, who assert that someone as disreputable as me can only bring discredit upon the trans-community. It has been extremely difficult to keep a stable sense of myself through all of this brouhaha but I’m a very stubborn person.”

Siri Ousdahl recalls, “I sent my book, ‘Constraint’, to a number of agents, and, while they praised the writing, some expressed hostility or disgust towards the content. I treasure one letter from an agent who essentially said, ‘Yuck, don’t contact me again’.”

One writer, who prefers to remain anonymous, tells us that her daughter hates discussing her books, being embarrassed, and has asked that her two teenage daughters be spared from knowing about their grandmother’s writing. The author notes that they have discovered, and ‘have told me they are proud, despite their mom’s attitude’.

Cherry Wild writes both what she terms as ‘smut’ and more literary erotica. She asserts that most people show tolerance for the latter (and even enthusiasm) but that she is more circumspect in sharing that she writes the former. She admits, “I’ve encountered a few people who splutter and make it crystal clear they do *not* approve.” With my smutty erotica, I’ve told far fewer people, as I push more boundaries. I’ve written some things that I know people would be much quicker to object to, and have no desire to listen to those criticisms.”

Justine Elyot laments, “I’d like to be able to tell people about my writing. Very few people in my life know I do this, and it sometimes saddens me that my father died without ever knowing I had published a book – something he always told me I could do. But in our very traditional and strait-laced family, I couldn’t mention it.”

Sylvia Storm tells us, “I prefer to write under pen names and keep my anonymity, just because of the social stigma of what we do. I wanted to finally set my words free. I have grown through this, became a little braver, a little more confident, and a lot more intelligent in the ways of feelings and passions. This began as a bravery test, and it turned into self-discovery.”

Alexis Alvarez comments, “I cringe sometimes, because I know there can be some level of disapproval when I reveal to friends or acquaintances what I write. However, I try to push through, as I’m proud of what I write. The details aren’t appropriate for everyone and every situation, so I don’t announce the fact randomly but nor do I actively hide it.”

However, while some people are disapproving, others are more tolerant. Alexis continues, “Most people I choose to tell are initially surprised, but are then accepting, and often don’t show further interest. Like anything, life goes on and people move with it. I’m pretty much out in my real life as an erotica writer, and everyone knows my pen name.”

Meanwhile, it’s also the lot of authors in our genre to, on occasion, receive words of admonishment: for lack of decency, or morality.

Ina Morata notes that she has been on the receiving end of disapproval from authors who write outside of the erotic genre. She states, “Those non-erotica writer readers who have discussed my work with me have either challenged what I have written, or have tried to persuade me to write in a genre more ‘befitting’. Indeed, the best line I think someone came out with was: ‘if she’s writing that, there must be something missing in her life’. To me, this said more about the reader than the author!”

Ina tells us, “I’ve encountered discouragement in my career choice generally from older members of my family, but this has been exacerbated by my choice to write erotica. Indeed, I was told I should concentrate my energies ‘on something much better’ after I published my last book. The person involved hadn’t even read the book, and had no idea that, aside from the power play through the sex, it broached some serious subjects that have been prevalent in my family for decades, and that there was more to consider than which pages to bookmark and show their friends in secret! My children never cease to amaze me, though: they have just accepted what I write and are interested in me as a writer, regardless of genre. In fact, my daughter seems to find it pretty cool that I write erotica.”

Undervalued and Obscured

At the heart of negative interactions, there’s not only misunderstanding of the distinction between ‘real life’ behaviour and the exploration of possibilities through fiction but a sad lack of comprehension of what can be achieved through writing in this genre.

As Adrea Kore emphasises, “Erotica seeks to arouse, but it may also confront, provoke, and subvert…Sexuality is such a vital part of the map of the human psyche. Sexuality reveals so much of ourselves.” Remittance Girl also comments on the potential of erotic fiction, declaring its ability to explore ‘us at our most naked, our most vulnerable’. She stresses, “It is an exposure of both our passions and our hideous flaws. Our destructive jealousy, our brittle pride, our hunger for what doesn’t belong to us, our need for the strange and the transgressive.”

Those who write erotic fiction know that, at its best, it can claim a worthy place in the literary constellation. To convince others that this is true, and to begin breaking down the prevailing stigma, we must continue, as authors, to set the highest standards in our writing. Whether we’re exploring the darker corners of the sexual psyche or its joyous heights, we should respect writing craft. As any author, writing in any genre, we should aim to move readers not only viscerally but emotionally and intellectually. We need to demonstrate the incredible potential of writing ‘the erotic’.

Support One Another

Seek out the work of fellow authors. Find outstanding examples. Review, recommend and applaud them. Let the whispers travel from ear to ear, from platform to platform. Let readers know that there IS talent in our midst, and that erotic fiction gives voice where many dare not speak.

More Eyes are Welcome

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13 thoughts on “Hidden Identities: writers of erotic fiction”

I am writing my first erotic novel and have decided to publish under a pseudonym. I was writing my second novel for a different series and this other story came to me and just stayed. My decision to use a different name is partly so readers aren’t confused, but mainly as I’m unsure of reaction from friends and family. I feel my sons in particular would be embarrassed by a mother who writes about sex, it’s difficult even acknowledging your parents have sex! Adopting a pseudonym releases me and allows a greater freedom to write what I want.
I recently attend a talk hosted by Mariella Frostrup urging for more writers of ‘good sex’, she was with the editor of Erotic Review and the room was full, so I feel readers are out there, but even if there aren’t I have enjoyed writing this book.
I have just set up a facebook page and email id in using my pseudonym because, at some stage, I will need to market my book. So Selina Heed is becoming more than just a name, it feels slightly dishonest but also exciting.

It IS exciting!
Good on you Selina.
Lovely to hear that there were so many people keen to attend the talk with Mariella Frostrup.
Meanwhile, as you say, writing the erotic is enormously satisfying.
Long may we continue.

Reblogged this on Crush Blush and commented:
Another amazing article from Emmanuelle, who has combed the results of 130 author surveys to share revelatory notions about writers of the erotic. This one focuses on why we use pen names or otherwise hide our identities, and the repercussions (occasionally positive ones) for those who choose not to.

This post resonated this past weekend. I was at a wedding with six friends whom I have known for many years and who know about my writing erotica. One of my friends (the only one of the group to have bought my books) casually told a guest that I wrote erotica, which I didn’t mind. He was very interested, and later, while I was sitting chatting with my friends, came over and began asking me questions about my writing. I could see that one of my friends looked particularly embarrassed and annoyed, so I closed down the conversation and told him that not all my friends approved of my writing (and gave him my website address so he could look at my books). After the man had gone, the annoyed friend told me that I had brought shame on the group by discussing my writing. I think that she felt she would be judged by association. Is it any wonder that so many of us prefer to remain in the dark by the use of pen names?

There seems to be melancholy in this, things not said. Just an impression. Human belief and identity are both odd and dangerous. Writers spin tales about the world at their best, and there is risk in that for any writer in any time. “We the people in order to…” comes to mind. Sharing the risk with others is the only protection. Ally with born soldiers, and statesmen, and those that disagree with you too, so they know you and you have eachother’s back. It’s the only system we know works.

Another great round-up of survey responses. I found myself nodding along to many of the quotations. I also use a pen name to avoid judgement, so that my family and friends to not find out that I write erotica. Lots of us hidden writers out there.

So glad I found you wrote this, Emmanuelle 🙂 I’m one of those erotic fiction writers who’ve decided to be completely out. I was already so marginalized for non-normative parts of me. I discussed it with my Master- yes, part of the source of my “I live BDSM, I write BDSM” tagline- we live very out. Sure, He doesn’t actively talk about our sex or kink lives at work, but that’s mostly “At work with a bunch of rednecks who wouldn’t get it.” I’m already estranged from my parents- they have repeatedly failed to accept me and then when my teen came out as transgender, they did a horrendous job hearing that. With my teen- she’ll turn 18 in November- we have the joke of “You have to be 18 to read my friends’ and my writing”- but she searched on the laws to find that it’s specifically visual images that are covered by law, not our books. I too live in a small, conservative town, but I don’t fit in here. I don’t even fit in among the Unitarian Universalists, who while openminded at the faith tends to be, the local UUs are still from this area and are more conservative than they realize. UUs mentioned, I’m totally out as an erotica writer- and as non-monogamous, BDSM-oriented, and bisexual and any number of things to other UUs, including the ministers at the two UU churches that I do attend.